


Nip and Fuck

by Lightspeed



Series: Monstrous Intent [26]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Clothing, Deepthroating, Frottage, Garuda - Freeform, Lace Panties, Lingerie, M/M, Mirrors, Multi, Oral Sex, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Snowballing, Tailoring, Threesome, Wings, doppelgangers, garuda!Medic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-24 04:07:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2567630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightspeed/pseuds/Lightspeed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stymied by upper-body clothing thanks to his wings, Medic attempts to alter his shirts to fit around them.  When that fails, Spy steps in to recommend his personal tailor, one who is incredibly skilled at working with supernatural needs.  When he and Heavy arrive, they discover that more than just the tailor’s clientele are monstrous, and that they’re as adept at removing clothing as they are creating it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nip and Fuck

"Verdammt!" Medic cursed, popping his fingertip into his mouth with a frown. That had been the tenth prick of his finger on this seam alone!

The doctor held his dress shirt in one hand, looking disdainfully at the needle that hung from its thread, dangling from the half-finished seam he'd been sewing. His shirt looked in ruins, sliced in two lines down his back with a large block taken out at the top of each where his wings would protrude. A set of buttons sat on a tray beside him, ready to attach to make some sort of closing for the bottom of the cuts.

Medic ruffled his feathers in frustration. Thus far he'd been able to weave basic transmutations to revert to his original form for work, but having to re-cast multiple times over the day after every respawn while under the duress of not fitting into any of his gear grew tiring quickly. It was a temporary solution for a permanent problem.

Heavy had suggested trying to find a way to make his spells permanent, but leaning his cheek against the soft feathers of his wings, he had difficulty mustering the desire to. These new parts were beautiful, dangerous, majestic. All things the new garuda found suited him very well. Certainly, his birds had taken to it, grooming his feathers and cooing softly when they weren't busy with whatever else a dove finds important. Further still, he'd found his magic senses stronger, and he no longer had to strain to see the ambient magic around most things. Heavy himself, for all of his compassion for his lover's plight, had admitted he'd be sad to see these changes go. Though he missed the smooth skin of his hands and the dark hair that coated his arms and up the back of his hands, as well as the human feet he'd lost in favour of avian talons, he saw how much Medic adored his new form, and had quite the affinity for the doctor's snowy feathers. The added benefit of magically-balanced flight didn't hurt, either.

He loved his new shape, light bones, bulky wings, hard nails that needed frequent trimming and all. So he'd resolved to work around his new clothing-based limitations. Heavy had cut a few old t-shirts into tabards for the doctor for the time being, something to preserve a little of his modesty around the base. It had been some comfort, though certainly neither the half-giant nor Scout could much handle the constant sight of the doctor's toned arms and muscular sides, let alone the occasional glance of greying chest and belly hair, with much decorum. It was good for getting pawed at, but was no permanent answer. And besides, it was hardly professional.

So here he sat, trying to modify some of his work shirts with sub-par skill, worrying what to do about his beloved long coat. He couldn't go out on the field out of uniform. Not even Scout did that, though he did have to invest in button-down shirts once his antlers got too large to fit through the neck of his tees.

After about an hour of needle pricks and buttonholing, Medic finally had his shirt decently hemmed. The seams were a little uneven and the shirt was a bit tighter from where it had to button down his back where the fabric had not overlapped before, but it was finished, to a degree. Casting a glance to the small pile of his folded work shirts, he set his needle and thread on the table, sighing. There was no way he'd be able to get them all done without days of effort, and even then, they'd still look amateurish and awful. He'd be better off just making tabards out of them, too.

Wearing his newly-sewn shirt, the doctor called his experiment a failure and stalked out of the infirmary to go get a snack from mess. Perhaps a light meal would soothe his frustration.

 

*

 

"Docteur, you are looking slightly sharper than as of late," Spy teased as he entered the mess to see Medic seated at the table with a bowl of milk and cereal, scooping shredded wheat heavily dusted with cinnamon sugar into his mouth.

Medic chewed and swallowed as he glared at his teammate. "I have done what I can with the skills I have, Spy. I sew flesh, not fabric. It is not exactly a skill mein Mutter taught me as ein Kind."

"Do calm down, Docteur. I meant no insult," the rogue soothed, slipping into a seat opposite his teammate. "Frankly, I'd been curious as to what you intended to do about your situation, considering your new limbs beg an entirely novel approach to clothing. BLU doesn't exactly tailor their uniforms to fit men with wings."

"Yes, well, it is not like I can just drive to a local tailor und have mein shirts stitched for such things. I love mein wings, do not mistake me, but it is not exactly common to find a man with a need for such tailoring. Let alone a man with such parts to begin with. Most humans will run in terror or call the police at the sight of a creature not their own," Medic muttered, lightly clacking his spoon against the inside of his bowl.

"I know all too well," Spy smirked.

Medic quirked an eyebrow at that, and realized quickly that this was the first time since his transformation that he'd been in this close of proximity to Spy. A subtle vibration hummed through his black-nailed fingers, a fuzziness thrumming in his head. Magic poured off of Spy like a lawn sprinkler, and he had to wonder if the rogue was making an effort to let it show. "You do, do you?"

"I do not repeat myself," the rogue teased, lighting a cigarette and taking a drag. "So you are intent on keeping your upgrades?"

"I couldn't be happier with mein changes," Medic admitted. "Even Heavy likes them, which surprised me, to be honest."

"A lover with the visage of an angel sitting astride his hips, wings spread to the heavens in ecstasy? How could he resist worshiping at that altar?" A smirk slipped across Spy's lips.

Medic cleared his throat, cheeks growing pink at the Frenchman's lurid description. "Ja, well," he cleared his throat, finding his voice pitching a bit higher than it should, "I need to devise some way to alter mein clothing to accommodate mein new form."

Spy thought a moment, taking another long puff from his cigarette. The doctor returned to his cereal as he waited. "You know, Docteur, I might know of someone who can help you with your little problem," he set at last, smoke trailing between his teeth.

"You do?"

"Oui. It would require some doing, but I know of a tailor with whom I have worked for quite some time. They do all of my suits, along with other garments I prefer to keep safe from the elements in which we fight and dwell. Silks, things like that. They do all of my alterations, and work in magical textiles. Things that can transmute with a body, and such." Spy's smirk returned, a bit more earnest. Less teasing, more knowing. It was the look he wore when he had information he knew was useful and felt special for knowing it. As such, Medic knew the look very well.

"What use would you have for transmuting clothing?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" the rogue chuckled. "Just know that I have patronized this tailor for years upon years. Far more than I care to quantify, for reasons that I do not intend to elaborate on."

"Fair enough," Medic conceded, taking another bite of his cereal and pausing to chew and swallow. "So where can I find this tailor? Is it local, or the sort of thing I must wait for Thanksgiving furlough to visit?"

"Oh, it's hardly local, but it's just about forty-five minutes due West," Spy shrugged, noncommittally. "They usually prefer appointments, but they also work on word-of-mouth. I so happen to have a parcel of time reserved two days from now. You are in far more need than I, Docteur, so you can have my appointment. I shall send word forward to them, to be sure they are aware."

"Danke. That is very generous of you, Spy."

"Think nothing of it. It is a small generosity. And besides, I am tired of seeing Heavy pawing at you at every available opportunity. The two of you make a handsome couple, but unless I am invited to join, I'd prefer not to be witness to your foreplay." The rogue chuckled, taking another drag. "Mirror Image Tailoring and Alterations," he offered, pulling a small note pad from an interior pocket of his jacket, freeing a pen along with it. He quickly scribbled down the address and ripped out the page to hand to his teammate with a smile. "You will like Rune. The two of you will have much in common, including a language."

"Rune speaks Deutch?"

"That and so much more," Spy grinned. "I'll leave you to your cereal, Docteur. I am craving a snack now, myself. And I do believe I have the remains of a small box of imported sweets hidden in my smoking room, unless Pyro has gotten to them first. His sweet tooth is infuriating."

"Oh, I know! It is impossible to keep mein chocolate stash hidden from him! I did not think you the sort to stash candy, though." Medic smiled at that. So Spy did have earthly vices other than chain-smoking, sarcasm, and fucking Scout's furry behind.

"Not candy, Docteur. Some sweet bean cakes I order semi-regularly from a bakery in the far East. Or slightly nearer West, as the globe may be," the rogue shrugged.

"How suitably exotic," Medic chuckled, returning to his cereal. "Danke, Spy. Seriously."

"Bitte, Docteur," Spy replied as he made his egress, waving Medic off over his shoulder.

 

*

 

Medic looked to the slip of paper Spy had given on him. This was the address, alright. Looking up from the scribbled numbers, he frowned. The little shop seemed to be in the middle of nowhere, at the tail end of a half-empty row of stores on the edge of one of the nearby larger towns. It looked run-down, like nobody had occupied the space for years. Yet the sign hung, unsullied and well-kept, reading Mirror Image Tailoring and Alterations.

"It does not look open. For decades," Heavy observed, giving voice to Medic's mind.

"Spy said this was the place."

"Maybe Spy is playing cruel joke."

"He knows better than to do it to the man who tends to his medical needs," the doctor muttered, pocketing the paper. He approached the building with determination, opening his senses and feeling the weight of the magic in the air. It was thick, like a cloying fog that weighed down his clothing. Just as he'd suspected. "Magic."

"Illusions?"

Medic waved a hand, drawing a small pattern in the air as motes of azure light began to wink into existence along his fingertips. He spelled a circle with his fingers, connecting points of arcane thread. "Arcanum Deprendero."

A wash of colours spread out of the azure circle at the doctor's glove, illuminating the ambient magic before him in an array of prism-rainbows before settling into the quiet hum of magic revealed and analyzed. His own body was suffused in the soft green of the spell that kept his monstrous features hidden, but peering through that haze, Medic saw the blues of protection charms, the violets and indigos of illusions, a soft yellow for divination, and a powerful orange aura around the door to the building. Whatever the conjuration effect was, it was potent.

"This building might simply be a door," Medic supplied, holding his attention on the searing orange light. He narrowed his eyes as if that would help sharpen his vision, concentrating on the glow of the door as the colours began to expand and separate into patterns in the air, an arcane circle and accompanying runes blazing at its centre as complex shapes spun together throughout it. He watched the figures, threads of aether woven together, and with his open hand, gestured as if to spread them apart, plucking the corded arcanum to see its structure.

Closing the hand that held the spell, Medic swept it to the side, dismissing his magic in a flourish of azure. "It looks like a portal to an extradimensional space. Possibly a demiplane, like Merasmus' library."

"This explains much. Like how Spy can have been using this tailor for many years if it does not exist and is also in New Mexico," Heavy shrugged.

"Well, shall we, Schatz?"

"Lead on, Doktor."

The mercenaries approached the run-down building with its perfect sign, and as they stood at the door, even Heavy could feel the powerful magics that hid the place from passers-by, only showing itself to those who knew where to look. Medic grasped the handle and pushed the door open, swinging it inward to reveal a plush shop adorned with fineries and mirrors, the walls a pale lavender as a counterpoint to the royal purple carpeting. Racks of finely-pressed shirts, waistcoats, jackets, and trousers lined two walls, a third holding a series of mirrors angled around a small rise in the flooring, and a register atop a counter next to it. The lighting fixtures were ornate and brass, natural motifs of leaves and vines curling about frosted white glass. Lower spot lights sat around the mirrors to give the best lighting for the viewing area. Soft strains of slow, calming tunes played on some phantom accordion floated through the air with no visible speakers from which to project.

Stepping through the threshold into the extradimensional space, Heavy and Medic were greeted by the warm scents of cedar and patchouli barely ghosting upon the air. A voice called from seemingly nowhere, androgynous but heavily tinged with a German accent, "Ah, hallo! I will be out momentarily! Entshuldigung!"

"It is no hurry," Medic called back in his native tongue, trying to keep his tone friendly and even.

"Are you Spy's party? He didn't tell me you spoke Deutch!" the voice replied excitedly, joining Medic in speaking German as well.

"Just myself, I am afraid. My companion knows enough to order at restaurants, go shopping, and find his way around. Including a few choice phrases not fit for polite company," the doctor chuckled.

Heavy frowned. Well, at least he knew what 'entshuldigung' and 'Deutch' meant. He busied himself looking at the on-rack clothing, suits of various styles, makes, and sizes, many of them enchanted and labeled as such. Some would magically shift their shape with the wearer. Some would enhance one's natural presence and get them noticed. Some did the exact opposite. Several were enchanted to always stay clean or undamaged, or to protect the wearer from physical harm.

"What have you found, Schatz?" Medic asked, leaning in around Heavy as he poked around the selection.

"Enchanted clothing," the half-giant shrugged.

"Ah, yes, I see your eye has been drawn to my collection of wondrous clothing," the voice said, now behind them.

Medic turned to see the shopkeeper, only to be taken aback by what he saw before him: a perfect duplicate of himself, exact down to the lacing of his shoes and the part0 of his hair. With wide eyes he beheld his copy, looking him up and down with stunned surprise. "Was?"  
  


"Oh, he did not tell you what I am, did he?" the doctor's double asked with a rueful smile. Even their voice had changed to match Medic's. "Leave it to him to be so cheeky. I am a doppelgänger, you see. I take on the appearance of those around me."

Medic recoiled, his fingertips steaming azure.

"Oh, please, relax, Doktor. I will not steal your soul, or any such thing. Really, it's an unfortunate tendency of my people, but not always controllable. Many peaceful attempts at contact have been foiled by an accidental gaze. Myself, I wear contact lenses to correct the problem," the doppelgänger explained cheerfully. It wasn't often they had to expand upon that sort of history. It was nice to have a fellow German in the shop.

The doctor relaxed with a sigh. "Forgive me, I did not mean any offense."

"Oh, none taken! Now, welcome to Mirror Image, friends! My name is Rune. What can I help you dashing gentlemen with on this fine day?" The shape-shifter bowed a bit with a flourish, their broad smile looking terrifyingly docile sitting upon Medic's face.

"Ja, well, call me Medic, und this is Heavy. We are here because I have a bit of an issue," Medic began. "Allow me to show you." He unfastened his coat and handed it to Heavy, then followed suit with his waistcoat, tie, and shirt, idly wondering why he'd bothered to wear so many layers. Tugging his undershirt free, he stood bare-chested before his double, a bit unnerved by the studious inspection his smiling visage was treating him to. He quickly shed his boots and socks.

The azure glow returned to his fingers, and the doctor raised a hand, summoning to activity his active spell. He waved a bit, picking through the magic that wove around him, and tugging a strand of aether free, collapsed and dismissed the transmutation that bound him to human form. Feet and flesh melted away, giving way to keratinous skin, talons, and feathers. Medic's wings formed from his back unceremoniously, the flesh bulging outward without sensation, skeleton changing and growing new parts as it took the shape of his wings then sprouted feathers all at once. When the spell was gone, Medic stood in his natural form, a dove-winged garuda.

Rune shifted to match, clothing not altering beyond exposing their new feet. "I see! You are a garuda!" the doppelgänger observed. "Yes, that can present some interesting challenges in clothing design! Extra limbs are always such trouble in a world that prefers to build clothing for just two pairs! Such a tragically narrow market they've set for themselves!" Rune chuckled. "Though I suppose it does drive my own sales up."

"Not a terrible grift," Medic replied. "But ja, this is new for me. I was human until about two weeks ago. There was a bit of a mishap with a spell, und, well, the wild magic made me as you see me now. It has made dressing for work, or in general, somewhat troublesome."

"I can imagine so! Uniform?"

"Yes. It is the clothing I wore here. I am quite attached to mein coat in particular."

"Oh, it is no problem! I can stitch you up a new wardrobe in little time! A simple button closure on either side of the back beneath your wings should do the trick just fine, unless you are looking to purchase transmuting fabrics to sit the same as your previous uniform, with no additional closures, and would just give way for your wings and hem itself open around your limbs for a perfect fit with minor additions to cost, of course." Rune grinned, striding over to Heavy and plucking the coat from his grasp. They looked the thing over, admiring its shape and workmanship. "This coat might be a good investment for the latter, since it is of such a unique design. It's very stylish!"

"Ah, yes, I do love that coat," Medic admitted. "Transmuting fabric will be perfect for that, but for mein shirts some simple button closures will be fine. Money is not really an object."

"Being one of Spy's companions, that does stand go reason," Rune chuckled. "Mercenary work seems outrageously lucrative."

"One could say this," Heavy mused, watching the doppelgänger from behind, his eyes sliding over the perfect duplicate of his lover. It was a pleasant sight.

Medic caught Heavy's eye and smirked. Oh he saw that look, and he liked it. Partly flattered because, well, Rune did look exactly like him. And partly because he agreed with that gaze wholeheartedly. His own eyes glided over Rune's figure, sleek in their coat, hair perfectly combed, mighty jaw precisely shaven. Huge, white wings folded easily behind their back, fluttering for emphasis as they spoke. The tailor's eyes were crisp and blue, but sparkled with a mirth far more approachable than the excitable doctor's. Medic couldn't resist checking himself out on Rune.

"Alright, well, let's get your measurements and we'll talk numbers and colours and do your order. It shouldn't take much time at all to get shipping them to you," Rune chirped, leading Medic to the dais and mirrors. They plucked a note pad and measuring tape from the counter and set to work getting the doctor's numbers. Rune measured his arms, shoulders, wings, chest, waist, hips, and neck, hands gliding over Medic's body with each measurement and between, petting at his warm skin through gloves that for all appearances were rubber, but were actually a simple extension of Rune's very flesh. They could feel everything.

Eventually, the tailor knelt down before the blushing doctor, more than a little flustered from the intimate handling, and measured his inseam, the back of their hand brushing with familiarity against Medic's crotch, for just a bit too long. A smile curved over their lips as they felt the doctor's anatomy respond. "Oh, my apologies."

Medic smiled pleasantly down at the doppelgänger, redness spread across his cheeks and nose. "Ah, no need," he croaked, voice cracking a bit.

"Oh, no, it is very needed, Medic. I could not help myself," Rune teased. "I should not be so forward."

Medic grinned at that. "No need," he repeated. "Seeing meinself down on mein knees is a lovely view."

"Oh is it?" Rune teased. They looked to Heavy, who stood there staring at the beautiful sight before him. At the shirtless garuda grinning down at his perfect, fully-clothed duplicate, whose wings were hitched up as they knelt with measuring tape in hand. "What do you think, Schatz?" Rune purred, their impression of Medic going from uncanny to perfect in the span of a smouldering glance.

Heavy breathed deeply, slowly. This basic business transaction had changed gears very quickly. "Is nice," he admitted, a bit embarrassed. After all, he'd just met the shape-shifter

"I normally put business before pleasure, but if you like, Doktor, perhaps we can talk numbers later? I should get a better idea of the body I am tailoring for, after all," Rune teased, coquettish and full of mischief.

"I cannot say the idea of perfectly symmetrical congress does not excite me," Medic hemmed.

Rune stood, and with little pomp, their form changed. Clothes melted away, coat and shirt and gloves and tie disappearing into nothing, leaving behind the shirtless mirror of Medic. The doppelgänger's smile grew predatory, and they pressed themselves against Medic, hands threading through the mercenary's greying chest hair before sliding down to rest on his hips. "What say you, mein Heavy?" Their gaze turned to Heavy, voice perfectly mimicking Medic's.

Heavy's face had gone red, his trousers growing tight and the sight of the two winged doctors, his own lover's hands tracing over the mirror of his chest and belly, looking to his lover with interest. Rune's customer service certainly was something else. Swallowing thickly, his mouth suddenly very dry, the Russian half-giant nodded, "If Doktor wants it, I want to see it."

"Just see?"

"Unless more is in mind," Heavy smirked.

"Then let's get those clothes off before I have to make new ones for you," Rune growled, turning back to Medic. And then they were on him, lips capturing the garuda's own in a hungry kiss, mouths opening, tongues dueling. Hands roved over warm skin as the identical Medics groaned and ground, wings twitching and fluttering lightly with excitement. The loud clacking of Medic's belt coming undone barely overcast the excited moans of garuda and doppelgänger, followed by the shuffle and zip of his trousers undone. Rune left the doctor's lips to nip at his neck, feeling him arch against them as their hands trailed down his lower back and beneath the loosened waist of his trousers.

The tailor paused, rearing back in surprise as their fingers brushed not the waistband of boxers or briefs, but lace. "Doktor, how naughty," they teased, sinking to their knees. Their hands tugged at Medic's trousers, pulling them down, exposing the white, lace panties he wore. They fit as if made for him, cupping his front with just enough space to be comfortable but still straining against the insistent press of his erection, lace curving over his ass in a deviously pleasing shape, leaving the underside of his cheeks coquettishly exposed.

Heavy's breath caught. His doktor had worn those panties under his uniform? Outside of the base? It was enough that he wore them at all, but to do so casually was almost too much for him. Standing there, all white feathers and angelic wings, in his pretty lacy white panties, made him moan without thinking, overwhelmed by the sight. It was almost sacrilegious, but he wasn't sure exactly to whom.

"Doktor, you wear those here? Out of bedroom?"

Medic turned to Heavy, stepping out of his trousers. He stretched his body languidly, wings reaching for the ceiling, and a dark smile crossed his lips. "You like it, Schatz?"

Heavy nodded, nearly coming undone as Rune caught his attention, shifting to match. Lacy panties and all. The two Medics took hold of one another, hands roving, mouths colliding and parting to taste elsewhere until they returned again, black-nailed fingers squeezing asses and hips and thighs, ruffling through hairy chests, mussing perfectly-combed hair. When Rune began to rub at the base of Medic's wings, where feathers met flesh, the doctor just about melted with a gasp. Heavy couldn't take any more, taking up a place behind his lover, broad hands stroking his strong wings, petting his sensitive back, squeezing that perfect ass and slipping a finger teasingly between his cheeks. He mouthed at Medic's throat, groaning and grinding against his beloved doktor, heat and pressure in his trousers growing painful.

Then at once it changed. Feathered arms with keratinous hands wrapped around his shoulders as Medic whirled around in his arms. He tilted up to kiss his lover, tasting him and relishing the scent and feel of him as they moaned into one another's mouths. Deft hands worked to open his trousers, and Heavy looked to see Rune, wings shivering with anticipation as they unhooked the Russian's belt and opened his fly. The giant leaned toward the duplicate of his lover, cupping the base of the shape-shifter's head and tilting them up for a kiss. Hungry and lustful, their tongues tangled between them, moans puffing with their heated breaths, and all the while Medic watched and palmed at himself through his panties.

A rumbling sound of excitement thrummed through Heavy's chest and emerged as a rough growl as he saw his beloved doktor touching himself at the sight. He should've known; Medic would probably have loved to watch Heavy pin this beautiful stranger to a wall and fuck them raw. The Russian brought a mighty hand to rub at Rune's panties just as Medic was doing to himself. They gasped, arching into the touch, redoubling their frenzied attempts to devour Heavy's mouth.

"Mein Gott," Medic breathed, eyes glued to the lewdness before him.

Breathless, Heavy broke the kiss, leaving Rune whining needfully as they stepped away from the eager garudas. Tugging his shirt over his head and dropping it to the floor, he quickly set about removing his boots and trousers. When his boxers followed, both Medics hitched a breath of want and fell to their knees.

Rough-backed, pinkish hands pawed at Heavy's chest, belly, hips, ass, and thighs, rubbing all they could reach as they worshiped at the half-giant's immaculate form. It was Medic who took his cock into his mouth first, though by this point Heavy was unsure which was which. He wasn't sure it truly mattered at the moment. Medic's skilled tongue ran over the crown of his lover's cock, swirling against the heated flesh and peeking under the ridge of the head, poking beneath foreskin to make the half-giant moan, an enormous hand coming to rest atop his head. The doctor knew exactly how Heavy liked it, with emphasis on the head and lots of tongue and spit.

A second tongue licked sideways along the underside of his shaft, and looking down the Russian saw Rune had joined, moving down to lap at his balls. Heavy groaned, eyes narrowing with the force of pleasure. He didn't want to look away from the gorgeous creatures suckling eagerly at him, black-nailed hands pawing at his thighs and butt. Medic took him deeper, pulling more of his length into his mouth as Rune lapped lower, taking Heavy's balls into their mouth and rolling their tongue along them, moaning against his warm flesh.

Heavy gasped, his back arching, fingers carding into Medic's hair as his thighs quivered. Pleasure nearly overwhelmed him as those identical mouths worked to please him. He cursed in his mother tongue, losing his words in the tide of sensation that washed against the shores of his addled mind. His other hand brushed shakily Rune's cheek before they darted away.

They swiveled on their knees, facing away from Medic and nosed into the giant's taint and began to lap further back, slipping between Heavy's legs and licking wet stripes up his taint, lipping at the soft, hot flesh behind his balls. The choked moan from above him urged them on and they were soon scooting out behind Heavy. Keratinous hands gripped the fuzzy cheeks of the giant's bottom and spread them apart. Heavy was left a bare moment's realization before that hot tongue was on him again, tracing circles around his asshole.

Heavy buckled forward, gripping Medic's shoulder and the mirror beside him for support, shocks of ecstasy rippling through him front and back, heat creeping up and making his insides boil. Medic suckled at his cock while Rune lavished his ass with attention, slurping at his hole and probing inside, dragging whimpers from the trembling half-giant, who reached back to pet at their hair. He couldn't think, couldn't speak, could barely hold himself up as pleasure stole his sense and his balance. He was left half-sapient, thoughts not quite forming, words dying in his throat and washing out in gasps and grunts. Heavy cast a glance at the mirror beside him, at himself, red-faced and shivering, being pleasured by two identical, angelic versions of the man he loved. It was all so much, becoming too much. Medic took Heavy deeper, allowing him into his throat, and when he and Rune began petting at their lover's balls and thighs, bobbing and swallowing while Rune's tongue pushed inside him, he was undone. Heavy groaned low and thick through clenched teeth, his body pitching forward, pressure and heat overwhelming as he felt like he was on fire. He emptied his balls into Medic's waiting mouth, whimpering as Rune did not let up until he had bucked his last.

Medic sat back once Heavy released him, sucking the whole way off of him as Rune relented as well, allowing the Russian to slide to the floor in a heap. They met atop him, leaning at either side of his belly, and kissed, mouths parted, tongues tangling, and Heavy's come shared between them. He saw the thick white substance pass across their lips and groaned, his cock spent but wanting. The twin doctors tasted Heavy on their tongues, tinged with the identical taste of themselves. Their breath puffed heavy through their noses, bodies hot, lips and chins moist with their own saliva spread over Heavy's body. Perfectly mirrored hands gripped one another's heads, fisting in dark, greying hair, keeping steady perfectly mirrored mouths which engaged in a perfectly mirrored frenzy of lust. Soon their trade became a proper kiss, with fury and hunger and lips crashing together. Panty-clad asses stuck up in the air as they grasped at one another in a flurry of arms and wings, and soon they were tumbling to the floor, Medic mounting Rune (Or was it the other way around? Heavy wasn't sure.) and grinding his cock, still wrapped in lace, against its double. The moans that filled the air were beautiful to Heavy, high-pitched, husky, and ravenous.

Rune's wings flapped against the violet carpeting, digging against the floor as they arched up against Medic, who flapped in the air as he ground down against the doppelgänger, heat pouring through the panties between them, rough lace growing sticky with the pre-come slowly seeping from their twin cocks. Medic's teeth found their way to Rune's throat, worrying through rough growls at flesh the perfect image of his own until he sucked dark marks into the whimpering shape-shifter He reveled in the sight, knowing that was what he looked like so aroused, so manhandled, so eager, and nuzzled through their chest hair, sliding broad hands up their sides and back down their hips. He claimed Rune's mouth in a kiss, canting his hips up to peel back the lace between them, freeing their aching cocks to touch unfettered, heat searing between them. His hand wrapped around them, and he began to thrust into it, against Rune, grunting into the tailor's hot mouth.

Sighing, Rune arched into Medic's touch, shuddering, letting themselves be kissed and taken. They were so into this, but taken a bit aback at how dominant the doctor had become. They quite liked it. Most people tended to be so passive when bedding their exact double. Their eyes rolled back as the garuda picked up the pace, hips snapping into the warm hand that grasped their cocks, double the speed of Rune's own feeble bucks. Medic was gorgeous, alternating between a manic grin and a face of complete ecstasy, screwed up and panting, but he struggled to keep his eyes open, to watch his own face in the throes of passion, and Rune struggled to do the same. They couldn't deny how attractive both mercenaries were, and an idle thought passed through their mind that they'd have to give Heavy's form a try when they came in to pick up their order. Perhaps the two of them could sandwich Medic, or they could rut against the giant in similar fashion.

Black nails bit into Medic's back along where his wings emerged, legs his own hitching up on his hips. The storm of sensation, the frenzy they were whipped into, filled the room with the heady sounds of their mutual need. Heavy watched, rapt, burning the image into his mind as with a keen in stereo, the two garudas came together, wings flaring out, bodies tensing and collapsing together with painted bellies and sweat-sheened skin.

Medic nosed into Rune's neck, practically gasping for breath as he slid to the tailor's side to allow them to breathe. "That was...wunderbar."

"Ja," Rune agreed with a laugh. "Danke, mein Vogel."

"Beautiful," Heavy breathed. "So beautiful." He reached out to Medic, tugging gently at his shoulder until the other mercenary scooted over to tuck himself up against Heavy's side. "My perfect golubchik," he rumbled, petting at Medic's hair, fingers rubbing softly along the shoulders of his wings.

"Mmm, I quite like the services this shop offers," Medic chuckled. His arms wrapped loosely around Heavy, and he patted his lover's other side, beckoning the doppelgänger over before returning to lazily sifting his fingers through the giant's belly hair.

Rune took the invitation, lazily half-crawling over to slot themselves in against Heavy, throwing an arm over his middle limply. They enjoyed the warmth as the lovers cuddled, bringing a smile to their lips as they watched the rather sweet display. "I aim to please. A few moments to recover, and we can clean up and get to business. I have your measurements, I just need numbers and colours and I can give you a pick-up date," the tailor slurred, trying to pull the right words from their sex-addled mind as their cheek pressed heavily against Heavy's warm skin. "And, of course, schedule any other services you might like to take advantage of the next time you're here."

"Services?"

"I like to keep my customers _coming_ back." Rune grinned at their pun, waggling pointed eyebrows.

Heavy's belly shook with a light laugh, followed by the low rumble of, "Booooo."

"I do not want to hear that from the man who thinks talking to his sandvich during combat is the apex of comedy," Medic prodded, giving the giant's nipple a tweak and snickering.

**Author's Note:**

> Immense thanks to my good friend Ysmni for all of her input and help on this fic.


End file.
